


Ukht

by CherFleur



Category: Stargate - All Media Types, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alien Culture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Sexual Assault, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:13:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23932858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherFleur/pseuds/CherFleur
Summary: She loved learning. She loved doing.Young and different from those she cared for, Halima wanted only to live her life laughing. She had known the quiet of fear and been saved from it, but these new pressures were too familiar.Love and loss, she was young, but she knew them.It hurt, but she wasn't alone. Never alone.Forever.
Relationships: Daniel Jackson & Original Female Character(s), Daniel Jackson/Sha're, Ra (Stargate) & Original Character(s), Skaara (Stargate)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've got a bit of this written and figured I could start actually posting the things I have more than a few thousand words in.
> 
> Grammar and typos!

There were visitors near the Southside village.

This wasn’t strange in and of itself, as there were those who traveled from village to village with their wares, or hoping to start a family.

No, these travelers were different – and therefore of more interest to her – for a very distinct, unique reason. They had come through the Chappa’ai.

Days before they had come through, the gate had been opened briefly, and something technological that had no weapons that could be detected. The Jaffa she’d had examine it had found nothing as well, and so they had just left it where it was just in case this very scenario came to pass.

It was exciting, new visitors! Visitors with completely different technology than what she was used to!

At least, that was what the readings from her equipment had told her, that there were living being that had come through. Because her brothers were not currently on the surface of Abydos she was rather more inclined to do something she shouldn’t. Even though they were on their way back from having to quell a Tok’Ra instigated rebellion on a Jaffa planet on which her brothers chose their warriors from.

Hopefully they would have taken her advice to heart, and not killed those amongst the ranks that they could refrain from doing so, and would bring them to her for questioning. They had found that the warrior cast that served their people responded much better to her youth and genuine interest rather than her brothers’ cool, calm, distant attitude.

The attitude of a ruler that while not cruel, was not benevolent or particularly kind.

One who would do what needs done to keep those under his command alive, to keep everything under his domain, as such, in peak condition. Whatever could pass as enthusiasm to her brothers had fallen behind a veneer of carefully constructed disdain, a mask that they had much trouble dropping even after struggling for years to do so for her.

The many millennia of keeping complete control over every tiny reaction and thought so as to keep themselves safe from the others.

To keep the sickness from spreading and defiling more of the galaxy.

It made her terribly sad even as she was shocked and elated that they even tried to show emotion to her. Genuine emotion to convey affection, after so long of being cold and unfeeling, of only surviving as best that they could.

Her brothers loved her, and this was the best way that they could have ever tried to show it to her.

So with all honesty, she hoped that her brother’s listened to her, because she wanted to learn more about the stratagem that the opposing sect of symbiotes was using to turn their troops against them. Why their Jaffa – inarguably the best treated other than Yu’s own, because they could only get away with so much without arousing suspicion – would betray them. Truly, she enjoyed the presence of their soldiers and guards, often watching them as they trained from up in the rafters where they could not fit and would not think to look because they weren’t viable positions of attack for those of their stature. She was much more nimble and agile than they who served both herself and her older brothers.

Despite how she had been preparing for the coming of some of the Jaffa hierarchy, she found herself excited by the prospect of something new to do whilst her brothers were away.

Grinning in spite of the fact that she knew there was the likelihood – extreme, at that – that these newcomers would be violent or that they planned to attack. Possibly to incite another rebellion, and yet she couldn’t hold in her shiver of excitement.

Heck, they could even be Tok’Ra spies or assassins, which the thought of made her nervous. Halima had never before encountered the violence or torture that her brother warned her of, even if she had memories of it, an intellectual understanding for more than the years that she had lived. Still, the chance for something new – even though there had been _so many_ new things since she’d gotten to Abydos – was so very intriguing.

So _interesting_ , that there was really nothing she could do to rein in her impulses even if she’d really and truly wanted to.

It had been promised her that she’d never have to, that she could be curious and carefree as long as her brothers could make it so.

“Jaffa, _kree_!” Halima called happily as she scurried down from her bench where she had been looking over the readings. “I’m going to Southside!”

“My Lady,” the Jaffa that her brother had assigned to her spoke up from behind her with something like exasperation mixed with longsuffering affection, though they would never be so ‘disrespectful’. “Our Lord Ra has asked that you not leave the temple during his absence.”

“Oh, it’ll be fine!” she beamed up at him from where she stood of a height with his hips. “If anything happens, I have you guys to come racing in to rescue me. _And_ I have the gifts from my brothers. I just want to go down for a bit.”

Scurrying out of the observations room and towards her main rooms, she wanted to change into something a little more fitting for the desert terrain outside of her humble abode. Halima waved and smiled brightly at the few Jaffa that had been ordered to stay with her for her protection as she passed them.

Namely, out of all of the pretty rings, bracelets and other knickknacks that her older brother seemed to enjoy spoiling her with. The amount of gold that he enjoyed was not to her tastes as much, even though she liked it well enough, and had a much healthier relationship with it. A lot of the things that she preferred wearing were silver or jade, sometimes random bright colors to fit her mood. She liked the way that silver looked against her paler skin in comparison to the warmth of gold against the soft brown of her older brothers’.

Changing quickly into a nice set of robes and dress that the chief’s daughter had given to her, Halima was so very excited. She had woven this herself with the aid of some of the elder women, she found her more used sandals and quickly, expertly tied and twisted knots to secure them. Her favored scarf was situated on her neck and shoulders to be ready to cover her voluminous hair and face, but not the twinkling of her eager brown eyes, when she left the temple.

“Mir’ac!” as she hurried out of her room and towards the temple entrance, she called for one of her guards. “Mir’ac!”

A broad hand carefully steadied her as she ran into _just_ the soldier she had been looking for. Peering up through her riot of dark auburn curls she smiled, a dimple winking softly on the left corner of her mouth up at the dark-skinned man.

“Oh, good!” she stated brightly, as if she hadn’t been shouting for all to hear. “You heard me!”

“Yes, My Lady.”

“Do you have the baskets ready?”

“Yes, My Lady.”

Pleased, she slid her hand into his much bigger one without thought and tugged him towards the entrance, jittery with her excitement and energy.

“Good, good! Let’s go then!”

While it didn’t tire her to wade through the soft, hot, endless sand of the world on which they lived, it _was_ unfortunate that her stride was so small and slowed them. So she ended up riding on Mir’ac’s back with her arms wrapped around his neck, humming softly with her pleasant mood.

Not that Halima _minded_ feeling carried so. It was nice, to be so beloved by her people.

“You seem pleased, My Lady,” the other Jaffa that was accompanying them spoke up, one of the more talkative ones. “Have you heard news from Our Lord Ra?”

“Mm, nope!” she smiled from beneath the shadow of her scarf over at the youngest of the two guards with her, and one of the most skilled to have been left to protect her despite his age. “But he’ll be back in a day or two, don’t worry! Things will be more lively again.”

“I see,” Rima, the younger Jaffa, said evenly. “Then it wouldn’t happen to involve that boy, would it, My Lady?”

“What?!” she squeaked, features flaming with sudden, acute embarrassment as she jolted against the man who carried her, unable to see the tilt of amusement on his features. “T-This has _nothing_ to do with Skaara!”

“Ah,” rumbled Mir’ac as he mused somewhat dryly. “So _that’s_ his name then.”

“I’m sure Our Lord Ra would be most interested –”

“That’s enough!” she managed, cheeks hot as the two Jaffa quieted, the air of amusement not fading despite their obedience. “No one’s talking about Skaara anymore, okay? Especially not to my brothers! He’s just nice to me, that’s all. He’s my friend, so you can just leave him be!”

“Yes, My Lady,” they intoned together.

Clearly they took pleasure from her embarrassment and discomfort, and the rest of the journey to the settlement was quiet. Honestly, she already had big brothers, she didn't need a whole aren't of them!

So _what_ if she had a little _teeny tiny_ crush on her friend at the Southside village? He was nice to her, would talk and play with her even though the other children wouldn’t, even though he was older. Skaara had even gotten his friends to let her hang out with them a few times, though that was rare, since they didn’t want to hang out with a girl, especially one that was younger than them and not of marrying age.

Halima wasn’t even _attractive_ or possibly _passable_ to the peoples of Abydos, her features too foreign and strange to a race that was all dark tones of earth from sandy gold to ebony brown. A lot of the time, she would end up spending the day with Sha’uri, Skaara’s older sister, and her father the Chief, Kasuf, when he wasn’t busy directing things or settling disputes. Many of the hairstyles she knew, she had been taught by the young woman with the lovely face and the stalwart personality. She was beginning to learn cloth weaving as well, which was interesting. Even if it wasn’t exactly the schematics of a naquadah generator.

Knowledge was knowledge, and she loved to learn.

Her brothers were something of scientists, they were. She herself, was more interested in learning the Jaffa training drills even if some of the patterns from the equations were interesting. Yet all she would get from her brothers when she asked about being taught was an elegant eyebrow arched as if she had just asked the most ridiculous question that they had ever heard. It was frustrating.

She’d wear them down some day, she was sure.

They had time.

“We’re here, My Lady.”

“Oh, thank you,” she said in surprise as she jumped down from the Jaffa’s back. “I must have been lost in thought.”

Taking the baskets that were filled with things like medicinal pastes and supplies that would ease the village’s way, she scurried over several more dunes. Her two guards stayed back at what had become the rallying point where they would wait for her return from the village, as well as be able to come to her if she called for assistance.

“When in the fjord I stood…” she sang softly as she walked closer and closer to where she could hear the hustling and bustling of people. One basket was slung heavily over her small back, the other dragged on a pallet behind her. “The sweet waters kissing at my sides… into the great deep darkness… mm… the never-ending waters…”

_Sha-shush!_

Jumping, she released a sharp yelp of surprise as someone popped out of the sand beside her, causing her to lose her footing and almost fall. Only to then be caught as someone _else_ popped out on her other side.

The chorus of laughter that greeted her told her exactly who it was that had decided to startle her on the edge of the encampment. Despite the scowl she had twisting her features and the way that she smacked at Nabeh, who grinned down at her from where he was steadying her. Even though it was heading towards twilight and the storm of sand was twisting over the dunes and the cliff side, she should have known that these boys would be out and about. No doubt waiting to ambush her and scare the daylights out of her as she came. Or any other unsuspecting individual.

It was about time for her to come and visit them anyway, and she just couldn’t believe that they had to do this nearly _every_ time!

“Hurry, hurry!” the boy said as he lifted the basket from her back, the other boys taking the pallet from her. “There’s going to be a celebration tonight!”

“Really?” her eyes widened. They always threw the _best_ parties. Halima's brothers didn't agree, but they were fuddy duddies. “What’s it for?”

“A man was sent with a token of Ra!” another boy told her as Nabeh dragged her behind him in a familiar motion. She was slighter than most others on Abydos, no matter her strength. “The Chief is giving Sha’uri away in marriage to him tonight!”

“I – _what_?”

~*~

Well.

This was…

Gaping openly at the men who stood before her in clothing that was much too familiar for her tastes she couldn’t help the open curiosity and interest that started to pound in her skull. Likely it showed on her features, with her scarf pulled down to show her face if not her hair, face smudged with dirt from the storm. Memories of before Abydos, before her brothers curled like sickness in her mind, but Halima had never been one to dwell on sadness.

If there was something that she could say was a character flaw of hers, it was the fact that even when she was uncertain and perhaps even scared she couldn’t contain her innate curiosity for new things. So even if these people brought up memories she’d rather just forget, these people were _new_.

And _completely_ clueless.

“Halima!” Sha’uri called in delight, if quietly, as the woman caught sight of her. The woman gestured for her to come to her without moving away from the fire where a few of the men and the Chief sat with her. “Come! You must meet Dan'yehl Jac'sun!”

Following orders as she had the habit of, she meandered out from beneath Nabeh’s arm, absently elbowing him in the stomach as she wriggled away and towards the Chieftain’s daughter. Where she motioned towards herself exuberantly with a smile that didn’t quite hide the nerves on her face. The sound of his quiet swearing behind her was music to her ears, and she couldn’t help but feel smug at her revenge for being startled even if she knew that this meant that the game was _on_.

Nabeh was _really_ at pranking games.

“Dan'yehl Jac'sun!?” She queried, situating herself under the young woman’s arm with a shy, happy smile towards Kasuf, who gave her a fatherly look of his own, though his expression was also thoughtful. “Who’s that? And what’s going on?”

“Ah,” the man across from Sha’uri with the eye glasses spoke up, hearing his name spoken, pulling his attention away from the brown haired man sitting next to him. “I am Daniel Jackson.”

His accented use of an older dialect was… well, not quite atrocious, as her brothers would say, but it left much to be desired.

It reminded her of the differences between the languages in the other side of the planet. Between the stars themselves.

“Daniel?” she spoke, tilting her head as she corrected her annunciation without the young woman shading her perception. “Why are you dressed so strange?”

“Oi, oi, ah!” Kasuf chastised her manners, and she flushed brightly as she ducked her head. “These are important guests, Halima!”

“Sorry, Chief,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“No,” the man named Daniel smiled at her, adjusting the large glasses on his face, his features kind. “I do look strange, don’t I?”

“Not you,” she told him honestly, despite how different he looked from everyone, the way she did but different. Both Daniel and the men with him were all darker in skin than she was, though the light hair was new. “What you wear. Are you from over water?”

Warm, pretty blue eyes looked at her with interest.

“Over water? You mean the…” the man struggled for a moment, muttering to himself in English, causing the girl’s heart to sink as her fears were confirmed. “Salted water? No, that’s not right. How do you say ocean in Ancient Egyptian?”

It had been a long time since she'd last been on Earth, the Forbidden Planet, but she remembered.

She remembered.

“Salted water?” she helped him out as he said it with his less than stellar accent. “Yes, over water. The place where sand meets water that you can’t drink. It is very far from here.”

“No,” Kasuf told her as the man pondered over her words, translating for the other men who were with him. “They came through the Chappa’ai, child.”

Even though she already knew that, she felt her eyes widen in the shadow of the scarf covering her head, and without thought she looked up towards Sha’uri for confirmation. The woman smiled at her indulgently and placed a hand on her head over said scarf, a gift that had been given to her by Skaara for her birthday several months before. Halima was almost certain that he had asked his sister to make it for her so that he would have something that she’d like from him that was more permanent.

Seeing as he generally just taught her how to help him with his chores when she insisted on doing so with him to make it so that he could go play with his friends faster.

“Really?” scooting closer to the fire as she eagerly leaned towards the man. “I’ve never seen it when it’s wet before! Was it like dipping in an oasis?” she practically vibrated in her seat. “Oh, oh! Were you damp? Nabeh said that one of the old women said that she heard that it makes your mouth taste like cold things and sweet mash!”

“I did not!” the boy in question cried out and stumbled towards them from another fire pit, pulling on her scarf with a scowl, causing it to fall from where it was wrapped over her hair. He'd snagged some of her hair underneath and she hissed in pain. “Don’t get me into trouble!”

“Hey!” she cried, covering her hair – so different than everyone else’s, but not as different as the golden brown of the new people, like this Daniel – with her hands out of reflex and hunching. “Don’t pull on me!”

Scrambling up when the Chieftain’s daughter began to scold the teenager, she shifted over towards the other side of the fire. Completely ignorant of the way that Kasuf was rubbing at his temple as she settled herself within the relative safety of the Daniel, the brown-haired man and the black man. Pulling her scarf back up and tucking it around her face with pinched lips on her pale features, she carefully smoothed it in place before scowling weakly at her friend. Who was skulking a little guiltily back towards the other boys where they sat, though Skaara wasn’t with them at the moment.

“Your name is Halima, isn’t it?” the Daniel asked, and when she looked up at him from her new angle, she saw what must have drawn the conclusion of his being a favored of Ra. “Can I ask you some questions?”

“Okay,” she shrugged, setting aside her unhappiness with her sort of friend’s actions. Nabeh was kind of like an irritating cousin. “What do you want to ask?”

“Well, you… you came from outside, didn’t you?”

“Outside?” tilting her head she squinted a little as she translated what he must mean in her mind. “Oh, you mean, I’m not from this village?”

“Yes!” he beamed at her, sending a look at the brown-haired man who was eyeing her with a dark sadness in his eyes. He felt like one of the Jaffa whose wife had died in childbirth because of a rival for his position assassinating her with poison. The child hadn’t survived. “Are there other places outside?”

“Mhmm.”

She nodded her head easily, reaching up absently to pull on his necklace, shifting onto her knees to look closer, running her fingers over the glyphs, curious by the age of the metal and the design. Beside her, the sad eyed man raised his brows at her unprompted action, Daniel himself shifting just enough to accommodate her, his own expression something like amused and indulgent. Turning it over in her hand ran a fingertip over an inscription that had been worn away from being close to skin oils and the warmth of a human body time after time, for ages. Hmm, there was something familiar about this piece…

“Do any of them have, uh, markings?”

Features twisting in confusion, she looked up into lightly tanned features with pretty blue eyes behind large glasses and frowned.

“Markings?” sending a glance at Kasuf, she noted that he was speaking softly with his daughter. “What do you mean?”

“Like, um, oh!” he settled his fingers over her and pointed at the faded glyphs on his pendant adorned with her brothers’ symbol. “Like these.”

“Halima!” the Chief’s tone was short, causing her to drop her hands from the necklace and fall back on her heels. “Why don’t you go find the new well for us?”

She _always_ forgot that writing was forbidden here, in this village.

“I – yes, okay – sorry, forgive me, sorry,” she stuttered out.

Quickly standing and removing herself from his immediate vicinity, not seeing the glances that the men who had come through the Chappa’ai nearest her sent her at her flinching departure.

Quickly dodging people on her way out of the hollow, she fought to calm her suddenly racing heart, biting her lip on memories as her hands shook where they gripped the cloth of her robe tightly.

It wasn’t often anymore that just a sharp word could send her running from a room the way it used to but perhaps the presence of people who had stirred up darkness in her heart had brought old habits out. The first time she had raised her hands to shield herself after her brothers had found her in the shuttle, the heartbroken look in those eyes and the sadness on that face had shamed her.

Lately, she didn’t even apologize before she began to speak as she had been doing for so long, since almost as long as she could remember before she’d come to Abydos. Now, she was embarrassed by how she had portrayed herself in front of complete strangers, and how the Chief was likely hurt by her reaction to his words. They knew some of what her history was like, if heavily edited.

Once she was outside under the cold stars, staring at the puffs of her breath in front of her face, she felt herself begin to truly calm down. The comfort of the clear, open sky one that had become her favorite thing during her time on Abydos.

The sky was just so _clear,_ so free of pollution that galaxies and planets were clearly in view, so _beautiful_ and _breathtaking…_ Well, _second_ favorite, but her brothers were often too busy to play with her hair and tell her stories of the things that had occurred during the long sleep, to tell her about all of the things that they had seen over their long, long lives.

“Halima?” a familiar voice called softly, a little confused and a little concerned, but mostly curious. “Are you alright? I saw you run outside.”

“Oh,” ducking her head she turned to look up at the teenager from beneath her lashes. “Hi, Skaara. I’m fine! I was just, um…”

Long, thick black hair shifted in intricately rolled coils tied with strips of leather over his shoulder as he tilted his head and crossed his arms, clearly not believing a word that came out of her mouth. A dark brow cocked at her dryly, quite succinctly telling her to stop pulling his leg.

As playful as he and Nabeh were, Skaara was going to be the next Chief, and he had learned to scent misdirection at his father’s knee.

“I was a little overwhelmed,” she admitted after a moment, fingers tracing the edges of her scarf by her face, cheeks warm as she glanced down at the ground in shame. “I’m going to find the new spot for the well that your father asked for.”

An arm slid carefully around her shoulders and she jumped a little in surprise, looking up with wide light brown eyes into kind dark brown eyes framed by long dark lashes. A dark spot set in skin that looked nearly as pale as her own in the starlight, untouched by the torchlight this distance from the entrance to the caverns. Though her body temperature was naturally a little higher than his, the press of his side against hers and his arm around her shoulders was warm and comforting in the evening chill. So she found herself smiling up at him, her emotions rolling back to pleased and happy once again.

Skaara was good for that.

“Shall we find a well, then, Hali?” lips twitched before they were curling into a lopsided grin. “And then go find out about how my sister’s wedding night has gone?”

Face flushing a little, she elbowed him in the side and then stepped away at the insinuation of what Sha’uri and Daniel could get up to in their absence.

That was just _gross._

Moving forward across packed earth, she huffed out a breath before she started her way away from the settled area where all of the animals were kept. Instinct had her heading towards the wall of rock that hadn’t been carved into or been worn down by the passing of time and many sandstorms. The sturdy gates kept out the worst of the whirlwind of grit, but sometimes the truly bad storms happened. Ones that would not be denied by wood and stone, and they had to dig deep in the caverns to get away, to find clean air.

“Come on, Skaa!” she called behind her as she quickened her pace. “You can gossip with Nabeh when we get back.”

“I do not _gossip_!” followed after her as the teenager was offended. “I’m no old woman!”

“No, the old women are much better conversationalists!”

“Oi, oi, ah! Get back here!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more children being children and Jack is a child magnet.
> 
> Grammar and Typos!

It was perhaps an hour later that they had staked out the placement of the new water-well and headed back into the caverns.

“Let’s find the big man with the light skin,” the teenager said as he easily trekked towards the area they had given the newcomers. “The one that Daniel called something like Cor’O’nel or something like that.”

“Mm,” she puffed out a breath to move a disobeying curl that she’d given up on keeping out of her face. “Okay.”

It wasn’t like there was anything better to do, not when the boy wasn’t in any mood to be convinced to either go to sleep or play a game. He was the most _stubborn_ person that she had ever met, and when he made his mind up about something there was little that would sway him. She was pretty sure that was how they’d become friends in the first place, considering that Halima hadn’t exactly been _sociable_ at the time.

When she’d been so wary of strangers upon first entering the settlement, worried about being bullied or shunned for her differences.

It had happened in other places, after all.

She hadn’t held out much hope that it wouldn’t be the same in this Village, that they’d accept her despite her pale skin.

As she moved quicker than she normally did to keep up with his swift, agile, and unfortunately several inches longer stride, she tripped. Right over a rumpled woven rug by an empty fire pit that’s embers were still smoldering slightly beneath the sand which had been kicked over it to smother it just enough that they might use it for morning meal.

In a familiar action – she wasn’t the most graceful of people – a warm, callused hand caught her elbow to keep her from faceplanting. Growth spurts were her _nemesis,_ and Hali was often clumsy in the middle of the days where her bones and joints ached from stretching.

Skaara sent her an exasperated look and took her hand in his, tugging her behind him with comfortable ease. Funnily enough, it was Halima who had ingrained the habit of hand holding into the majority of the people she spent time with. Even though he was not a particularly _large_ teenager, his hand was still big enough to dwarf hers significantly. Honestly, she knew that she likely wouldn’t be very tall, but maybe just a _few_ more inches wouldn’t be remiss.

Something to talk to her brothers about, honestly. They would know how much more she would grow, and if anything could be done about her honestly diminutive height.

In the amber glow of the torchlight his skin showed just how much darker it was than hers, making her look deathly pale in comparison to his sandy brown.

She _hated_ that she was so pale. So _different_. Especially because the people she cared about most were dark. From sandy gold to ebony dark.

Next to them, she looked like a corpse.

“Ah, there,” he pointed with his free hand towards a cut out window and they ducked down, hands still clasped as they crawled quietly closer. “What is that he has in his mouth, do you think?”

_That,_ she realized after a moment of studying the soldier where he sat. _Is a cigarette. Blech._

Peeking up over the ledge hesitantly, she found herself ducking down automatically as those sad, tired eyes glanced over at them in something like longsuffering amusement as they openly stared. Skaara more than her, considering her fuzzy recollection of her original planet of origin.

His hair was brown with a few hints of gray starting to weave through the strands and cut close to his head, just like the soldiers she used to see on TV and at her old elementary school assemblies. Movies about war and heroism that her brothers called indoctrination and propaganda because there was nothing heroic about war. There were no good or bad people in war, not truly, just people begetting violence on one another for a cause decided by others.

As scientists, her brothers disdained the act, but they were always so tired when talking about it. Halima wasn’t old enough to _really_ understand, and her sister wasn’t awake to help her understand.

She just knew that death, and the causing of it, shouldn’t be a simple matter.

The man, Jack, glanced over at them with something resembling weary, sad exasperation mixed with something like resignation. As if his being bothered by children was something to be expected but also something that caused him pain.

Slowly crawling up over the lip of the window as the man gestured at them, Skaara didn’t release her hand, and so she had to follow along as he propped himself up to sit on the packed sill. This ended with her upper half draped over his lower legs in a not particularly comfortable sprawl he didn’t even notice. Not until she struggled to a sitting position with one of Skaara’s long legs propped against her back the other dropped down against the floor inside the room.

Scowling at him for her discomfort under the shade of her hood she used her free hand to stab him in the back of the knee. Skaara furrowed his brows in a grimace and bumped her with the leg behind her, almost toppling her into the room.

What a little snot!

_Ugh_.

“Don’t drag me along with you on your misadventures!” she hissed at him, glancing at the sad eyed man as he watched them with raised brows, apparently amused by them. “At least not _literally_!”

“What?” she tugged on their joined hands for emphasis, and his eyes widened briefly before he released her and crossed his arms across his chest and turned to look at the stranger. “Whatever. That thing in his hands, what is it?”

Sniffing imperiously, she turned and then watched the man as he fiddled with metal, and it took her a moment to realize that he was playing with a lighter. A… zippo if she remembered it correctly from watching TV all those years ago; she hadn’t been allowed much of it towards the end.

It was the cool kind that all the really tough heroes had in the movies and ended up dropping on gasoline to start fires or explosions, with the flipped lid and the funny smelling flint. It glimmered in the torchlight, sending reflected white light scattering around the warmth of the room in unfamiliar ways.

“It makes fire,” was all she said, shrugging her shoulders as the man repeated the motion of open, light, close, open, light, close over and over again. “I don’t know. Ask him what it’s called.”

“Okay.”

“What?” she startled as he lifted the leg she had been leaning against and threw it over her head to shift more into the room. “I didn’t _mean_ it! Skaara! You’re going to get into trouble!”

The boy hushed her as she nervously flicked her gaze between the dark teenager who was her friend and the man from her planet of origin. The man he kept his own tired eyes on the boy as he approached him, hand reached forward towards the lighter.

“You want this?” the man asked, brows raised curiously but also indulgently. “Here, take it. It’s a lighter. Won’t need it for much longer anyhow.”

Oh, was he quitting?

Dark honey brown eyes flicked between the offered zippo and the face of the man giving it to him, before Skaara snatched it from the lax grip and darted back towards her. He was as slick as any sand lizard in sliding back into his previous position to study the small, glinting silver object in his hands intently.

“Ask him what it is, Hali,” the boy told her absently. “I want its name.”

“What? Why do _I_ have to ask?” she stared at him, and he glanced up and flashed a charming grin at her. “Oh, don’t give me _that_.”

Even though her cheeks flushed a little and she ducked her head to stare at the ground murderously, hoping that eventually her stupid crush would go away. Because even though it was a _little_ nice she was quite certain it would _never_ go anywhere. Especially considering her lineage.

It could be downright inconvenient to suddenly find herself tongue tied in the middle of a conversation just because he had smiled at her a certain or new way. Or when he slung a companionable arm over her shoulder. Or on the rare occasion flustering her to stuttered silence when he threw _her_ over _his_ shoulder. The fact that she was so small in comparison to the majority of the people on Abydos, much thinner and shorter than other children her age, was something that Skaara seemed to delight in.

He took every chance to physically move her from place to place, Sha’uri doing so as well on occasion. It was fine when the young woman would lift her up in her arms, propping her on a hip or the like, because it made Halima feel comfortable and warm. Like she was sure having a mother would have felt, but when it was _Skaara_ who tossed her over a shoulder or pulled her onto his back it was… well…

It made talking… difficult, sometimes.

Stupide feelings.

“Because you are better with strangers,” was all he said, though he nudged her with the knee she was leaning against. “And your mind is quicker.”

“Is _not_ …” she grumbled but turned towards the man who was still watching them curiously. “Jerk…”

Pointing to the zippo, she spread her hands palms pointed upwards and shook her head with furrowed brows.

“You want to know what it’s called?” Jack asked, forearms leaned against his legs, propping himself up with cigarette in hand. “It’s a lighter. Ligh _ter_.”

“Lighter?” she repeated, because that was just the way things had to be when you were pretending you didn’t know someone’s language, apparently. Her brothers were going to be so amused when she told them of this and she’d never hear the end of it. “This is a lighter?”

“Yeah,” the man quirked an honest smile at her and she squirmed in happiness, unknowingly acting on the paternal glint in sad eyes. “Yeah, a lighter. It makes fire.”

Pleased with the interaction, she turned to Skaara, just as he was flicking the flint and flame bloomed and rolled her eyes at him.

“Did you get _any_ of that, Skaa?” she asked wryly. “Or were you too distracted by the shiny thing?”

The boy closed the lid of the lighter, the clicking sound decisive and oddly foreign to her Abydonian assimilated ears. Sounds were muffed by technology and dampening equipment at home with the Jaffa, so things like that just weren’t normal anymore.

The flame snuffed out as it was smothered by lack of oxygen for fuel, the metal darkening inside already as the heat was trapped, she was sure. He passed it over to her for inspection and she found herself automatically running her hands over the engraving of the eagle on the front of it, taking in the star on the back with eager fingertips as well. She turned it this way and that, reflected the soft light of the torches off of the smooth metal surface.

Halima noted with amusement the _Made in China_ inscription on the bottom, as well as the fancy _J.O._ that was on the lid in something like what she’d been taught was cursive but swirlier.

“Now who’s distracted by the shiny thing?” he muttered, but he was smiling as she glanced up, blinking owlishly from her inspection. “He called it a… Lye-teer?”

Shaking her head, she gave him back his prize after opening and closing it to examine the inside. Halima was decidedly _not_ messing with the flint because she had horrible luck with things that had the potential to explode. It was why her brothers only let her practice her skills with gadgetry on things that had no power charge, so that she didn’t somehow cause it to spontaneously combust in some way.

_Again_.

“A Ligh-ter,” she corrected, annunciating slowly. “It is shorter, kind of like the eastern village’s way of speaking.”

“Oh,” the boy looked curious. “I have only met a few from there, and only at Chief gatherings that father has taken me to.”

“Say it a few times. Lighter.”

“Ley-ter.”

“Better. You need more _ai_. L _igh_ -ter.”

“Lighter.”

“Good!” she beamed at him and he smiled back at her, pleased with his own learning of the new word. Just because he liked to tease her for knowing strange things didn’t mean he didn’t also like to learn them. “I should teach you things other than games more often if you pick them up so easily. Sha’uri would certainly enjoy the break in stuffing things down your throat.”

“Oi,” he swatted at her before his focus shifted once again to the man who was watching them silently, his cigarette burning down between his fingers. “That thing, in his hand. What is it?”

With an aggravated sigh she covered her face with her hands and prayed for the hopeful future of not being a living translator. One where there were no strangers who did not speak the language of Abydos that she had her friend bothering her about. _Especially_ when she had to play that she had no idea what _these_ strangers had with them or what they were saying.

It made things so much more complicated than she wanted them to be, even more complicated than the first time she had been introduced to the subject of aliens and space travel in the first place. Which – considering those circumstances – was rather saying something, in her opinion.

“I don’t – Skaara!” she hissed as he again darted forward again. Only this time reaching for the pack of the cancer sticks and pulling one out beneath the watchful gaze of the man, whose brows were raised. “What are you _doing_?!”

“What?” he asked defensively, sitting next to her with both legs dangling this time rather than propped up against the frame of the window. “I want to try it.”

“Oh, this is gonna be good,” the man murmured to himself, amusement clear on his features as the teenager opened the zippo with an almost fumble, clearly a bit nervous. “Wish I had a camera…”

_Uh-oh…_ was all she could think as the boy lit the end after copying the way that Jack held it and breathed in. _I think he’s gonna –_

Breaking out in a fit of coughing as the smoke hit his lungs, Skaara doubled over and she found herself both jolting towards him to try and help him. Her hands clamping over her mouth at the humorous display as he buckled over and stared at the cigarette as if it had betrayed him.

Unable to hold it back, a snort escaped her, and then she was giggling, before it turned into full blown laughter as the teenager wiped at the wetness of his eyes from choking. Her arms wrapping around her middle to try and contain the way that her sides were shaking, her laughter low and hissing but still strong.

“Oi, oi, ah!” the boy cried. “What is this?! It’s like fire in my lungs!”

“I –” snorted laughter. “I don’t know why you – you expected any – anything _else_!” she cried out, wiping her own eyes in her mirth. The man smirked and chuckled a little where he sat, taking a deliberate drag from his own cigarette. “You _lit it_ on _fire_!”

“Fine,” he snapped, his features flushed from both embarrassment and his brief coughing fit. “You try it if you think you’re so smart.”

With that, he shoved the cigarette at Halima, and she rolled her eyes as she took it, staring at it with deliberation as she caught her breath. Laughter subsided as she took in the sudden frown of disapproval on the soldier’s features as she held it between her middle and fore fingers, filter pointed at her mouth. Well, if Skaara was too young to smoke by the legal standard of the United States, then Halima was nowhere _near_ old enough.

Much too young.

Glancing over at Skaara uncertainly, he only raised a challenging brow at her, causing her to scowl at him, decision made. Oh yeah, he was gonna get it.

Swallowing hard around the sudden lump of nervousness in her throat she wrapped her lips around the filter. Sucking in a little before pulling it out and breathing in clean air along with the smoke that had accumulated in her mouth, hoping that the dilution would make it easier. To her surprise and pleasure, although just the action made her feel a little sick to her stomach, she did _not_ choke as her friend had done, did _not_ choke at _all._

Though she went a little green around the gills momentarily before her body adjusted to the sudden influx of nicotine. And whatever other poisonous chemicals her super charged system was eating through.

Blowing out a breath of smoke she grimaced, waving her hand in front of her face and sticking her tongue out in disgust, holding the cigarette out in front of her as if it were the very incarnation of evil. Halima wished that she wasn’t always trying to one up him with that competitive streak he brought out in her.

Which, considering the conditioning she'd received since she was young before her father had died off being a hero to some unknown part of the world... Before her mother remarried and then died herself leaving her with people she'd rather not have known, smoking _was_ one of the worst things a child could grow up to do.

Well, that and stealing candy.

Certainly, she could still remember the swat she’d gotten for the gum she’d once nabbed.

“Gross,” she stated, voice a tiny bit hoarse so that she had to clear her throat and take a few clean breaths. “That’s so _gross._ ”

Her friend was staring at her with wide dark honey brown eyes framed by his long thick lashes as if he had never seen her before, his mouth hanging a little lose with his shock. Truly, that expression made it all worth it, even as the man who was a soldier plucked the cancer stick, which she was holding away from her like it was diseased, out of her fingers.

“… How did you do that?” Skaara demanded, brows furrowed, and features flushed in embarrassment anew that someone younger than him – a _girl_ at that – had done something he couldn’t. “How did you not choke?”

“Hashish,” wiping at her mouth and running her tongue over her teeth had little effect on the weird feeling in her mouth. “To gain access to the Westernmost village I had to smoke some. It made me sick.”

“Sick?” he suddenly leaned towards her, hands hovering around her as she grimaced a little wanly at the twinging of her stomach. “How sick?”

“I’m fine,” she stated easily, even though she kept on wiping at her face and mouth, and a sudden realization hit her, causing her eyes to widen in shock. “… Skaa…”

“What? Are you ill?”

“Your _mouth_ was on that.”

A moment of silence.

“Oh,” he seemed shocked at her words, and when she looked over at him, he looked a little poleaxed. “It was.”

Something contemplative mixed with something else crossed his features as he stared at her with furrowed brows before he beamed at her. Like the troublesome boy he was whenever he was about to get her in trouble by convincing her to do something they were _explicitly_ not supposed to do.

“Don’t worry, Hali! I’ll make an honest woman out of you!”

“O- _Oi_!”

“When you _become_ a woman, that is,” she smacked him in the arm, but he continued giving her a roguish grin in response to her flaming features. “So I guess that means we have some time to arrange the wedding. Years at least.”

“Shut _up_ Skaara!” she hissed, because there was _no way_ she was admitting to him that she’d already had her first blood a few months back. There was _nothing_ that could make her say so, especially when he was being such an irredeemable, infuriating, _teenage boy._ “Oh sweet Gods Above you are a _menace_!”

“Father will, of course, officiate the ceremony –”

“I’m going to _kill_ you!”

“– I’m sure Sha’uri will help you prepare yourself, since she will be a long wedded woman by then –”

A strangled noise left her mouth as she lost all ability for words, her features the reddest they had ever been in her life. They were unknowingly giving the man who was still watching them like they were the evening’s entertainment a fresh amount of hilarity.

“– I will, _of course_ , be the most _doting_ of husbands and consistently sweep you off your feet, quite literally, I might add and –”

_That_ , she decided, as her heart pinched a little with something like want and something like loss, but mostly a yearning sadness. _Is enough of that_.

“The only person you will marry is _Nabeh_.”

“ _What_?” he squawked at her with narrowed eyes, offended. “Did you just… seriously, _Nabeh_? My _best friend_?”

Staring at him resolutely through the still burning of her features, she let him know that she meant business.

“Remember that time that you all shared the calf milk on the fourth dune rise and then –”

“Oi, oi, ah!” he stopped her, leaping towards her to try and tackle her, so she leapt up and scrambled over to the man who was watching the happenings with much interest. “You said you wouldn’t say anything!”

“I haven’t said a thing,” she piped up from beside the soldier, who was glancing between them curiously. Skaara crouched in front of the window and Halima was half hidden on his left side, peeking out at her friend. “I only _hinted_. You’re the one who brought it up further! Or, well, was that Gorun?” she mused with a finger tapping her lips thoughtfully, enjoying the way her friend and crush’s features began to redden at the cheeks as she teased. “He is kind of pretty, I guess, if that is what you’re –”

With a quiet shriek she dove behind the man on his bedding to avoid the reaching hands of the teenager as he leapt for her once again. The two of them carelessly clamored around the man, who was skillfully avoiding knees and elbows as if it were an art form, expression both bewildered and terribly amused.

A familiar hand managed to grasp her ankle and the dark-haired boy yanked her towards himself, sputtering out insults and threats equally as she laughed and goaded him on further. Just to keep the play going longer, somehow ending up clinging to the unfamiliar man’s back so as not to be pulled off the bed. Thankfully, pushing against the soldier was akin to pressing against a wall for leverage to keep herself out of her friend’s grip.

There was the resigned air that she had experienced with her brothers, Kasuf, and on occasion Mir’ac or the other older Jaffa.

“Well,” the man grunted, barely catching her attention from where he was resignedly positioned between them, keeping a hand between her knee and his thigh. “This is either young love, or they’re siblings.”

The offhand comment threw her for a loop, mentally sputtering in shocked embarrassment, and Halima let go of her death grip on his firmly muscled form in her surprise. The sudden change in position had them sliding down in a heap with the sudden lack of anchor, crying out in dismay as they made contact with the ground. Or rather, Skaara’s whole body hit the ground and her _knees_ , ow, while Halima was caught mostly by the man before she could fall completely, her upper body propped up on a leg.

She blinked owlishly from where her fingers were clenched in the fabric of the man’s t-shirt, his hands gripping her upper arms.

Brown eyes flickered up to exasperated, amused ones, and then down to equally as stunned dark honey brown ones. For a moment, they just stayed where they were, too shocked by the sudden change from chase and struggle to fallen and still, and then they came to a mutual decision.

Attack the interloper!

With a cry of war, Skaara leapt on the man as she adjusted her grip and helped him to wrestle the soldier to the bed. The man spontaneously burst out in stunned laughter at their actions. He easily maneuvered one arm to pin her arms against her sides and the other to hold the dark-haired boy in a headlock, grip careful on them both.

Hali managed to wriggle and roll and little on top of his torso, getting a few grunts that cut off the man’s chuckling intermittently; likely because she was admittedly bony. Skaara managed to shift half of his body on top of the man, but it didn’t seem to do more than cause him to lose his breath and laugh a little harder.

Struggling proved fruitless after a little while and they tired themselves out, panting where they lay trapped by the soldier’s easy strength and experience. The man himself was not willing to push the issue, especially when it was so late with the day was dragging down on them both.

Without any conscious thought, Halima found herself yawning beneath her askew scarf, curls haphazardly fallen around her face and out of the simple braid she’d had her hair in. A feeble attempt to keep it back and away from her face the best that she could on her own with her slight reach.

Across from her, on the other side of the man, her friend made a sudden noise of shock and realization.

“What?” she asked, snuggling down against the warm, firm chest of the man without thought, lulled a bit by the slow, deep beating of his heart. “What’s wrong?”

“We uh, haven’t introduced ourselves to him.”

Wriggling to lean on an elbow she blinked at him in that owlish way she had with her large brown eyes, flicking a glance at the much more relaxed expression on the man’s face after a moment.

“Oh.”

Biting her lip, she considered for a long moment, before she nodded decisively and pointed at herself, directing her gaze back towards the man whose arm had fallen back towards the bed from where it had been previously holding her captive during their game.

“Halima,” she stated clearly, finger pointed at her face. “I am Halima.”

Brows rose at her as the man caught her meaning, studying her fair features with interest since they were no longer obscured by her scarf, riotous dark auburn curls half free around her face.

“Jack O’Neill,” he responded, shifting a little beneath them. This caused Skaara to mirror her by leaning up on his elbow on the other side, though he towered about a foot higher than her, which brought a scowl to her face. “You can call me O’Neill.”

“Jack O-um…” she frowned a little. “O’Neill?”

For some vague reason, the name sounded familiar, as if she had heard it somewhere before, but she pushed that to the side and brought her thoughts back to present. It would work itself out if it was important, she knew.

“Yeah,” he grinned at her a little. “Haylema, right?”

Making a face at the way he mispronounced her given name she shook her head, unknowingly loosing more of her curls from their confines to fall about her pale, freckled features.

“Hah- _lih_ -mah,” she annunciated slowly, pointing at herself again. “O’Neill. I am Halima.”

“Halima,” he tried again, this time sounding much, much better, almost perfect, causing her to send a beaming smile down at him. “It’s kind of pretty, when you say it.”

“This is Skaara,” she pointed at the teenager and he gave her a look. “Like Skaah-rah.”

She ignored the amused look he gave her even as the man glanced over at the teenager who was rolling his eyes at her careful annunciation of his name. As if the stranger wouldn’t have mangled it like he had her own with one less syllable in it. Well, perhaps it was a little easier to understand, the boy’s name, but that didn’t mean that it wouldn't be messed up in the same way hers had been.

Maybe.

“Skaara and Halima,” the man said, sliding his arms out from beneath them and sitting up. “Well, at least I know who to blame if the whole place goes up in flames.”

It would have been funnier if he knew how ironic those words were where she was concerned, but, alas, he didn't know.

Later, it wouldn't be nearly so amusing to her.

After the man sat up, she scrambled up at his side, hands propped up on his bicep and shoulder to keep herself upright. So that she could be on eye level with the man as she stared at him curiously before she heard Skaara shift on the other side of the pallet. Her gaze flickered over to the teenager for a moment without really seeing and then she looked back at the man on whom she was leaning.

Only for her heart the thud painfully in her chest and her eyes to widen with alarm as her attention shifted and sharpened.

“Skaara!” she cried out suddenly, voice loud and more than a little frantic as she stared in horror at the scene before her. “Don’t touch!”

Golden skinned hands with rough palms and fingers froze as the teen heard her command, fingertips pressed against matte black metal on what she knew was a gun of some kind. His pretty dark honey brown eyes were wide as he stared at her with shock, having never heard such a tone from her before.

The sound had the soldier spinning to look as well, and as soon as he saw what was happening he yanked the weapon away from the boy and stood, his expression thunderous. So terribly so that she cringed down a little, only not trying to flee for the equal amount of pain and terror and darkness and anger in his eyes.

“O’Neill?” she whispered in what was almost a whimper after a long, silent moment.

The man seemed to deflate before their wide-eyed pallor and shocked, uneasy expressions. He exhaled harshly, running the hand not holding the weapon against his features roughly, the limb trembling unnoticeably to the two children.

He set aside the weapon with the rest of his equipment and knelt before them with a serious expression on his face, causing the two to sit on the edge of the pallet and look at him uncertainly. Halima’s pale hand clenched in the fabric of Skaara’s robe as they sat awaiting what felt like a lecture.

Those dark sad eyes studied them with intent for a long couple of moments before the soldier took a breath and pressed his hands together. Scarred, callused fingers tangled together as the man grimaced a little before seeming to come to a decision and smoothing his features once again.

“That,” he pointed at the gun. “Is a weapon. It’s like…”

Jack frowned for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out what looked like a knife handle, and flicking the blade out quickly in an honestly intimidating manner. He showed them the length of metal that looked as big as his hand while holding it away from them carefully. Their eyes widened as they stared at the curved and half serrated metal, Skaara having never seen a knife like this, and Halima because it was so huge.

That was the same size as her forearm!

“It’s like this knife, but with fire. Like the lighter, with blades attached.”

“Lighter?” she whispered, swallowing, fumbling for the thing in question from Skaara’s robes and holding it out. “The lighter and his knife? Skaa?”

“I think,” the teenager spoke slowly. “I think he means that it’s dangerous, like a knife and the way that this lighter can create fire. They were using the black metal things to threaten people when they couldn’t understand our words about the storm earlier, but I didn’t think about it when I went to touch it, really.”

“So you just touched a warrior’s weapon without his permission,” she stated, breathing a little easier, studying those serious features and sad eyes as she handed the boy the lighter back. “Should you apologize, do you think?”

“Yeah,” he slid out from where he’d been sheltering her against his side, arm wrapped around her shoulders, so that he was kneeling in front of the soldier. “Please forgive me,” he stated solemnly, looking the man in the eye before bowing forward to press forehead and hands to the floor. “I meant no offense.”

Sighing in something like weariness mixed with satisfaction, the man put his hand on the teenager’s shoulder, causing the Abydonian boy to look up at him hesitantly. Skaara only to get a crooked grin in return, and suddenly everything was alright again.

Pleased with the loosening of tension, Halima beamed at them, watching as the Earth man helped her friend off of the floor. He then put his knife away again to study the both of them as they sat on the pallet he’d been granted for the night by the Chief. Whatever he saw made him roll his eyes and release a deep breath that wasn’t quite a sigh but still conveyed exasperation at the two of them.

It was a rather familiar motion, actually, considering how often Kasuf did the exact same thing when Halima, Skaara, and the other boys got into some kind of mischief or other. Which unfortunately often meant offending someone without intending to. It just made the whole paternal air that the man had all that much thicker and more determinable than it had been before.

“Well,” the man stated as the two youths watched him curiously. “Looks like that’s one disaster averted.”

“Hey,” Skaara poked her after a moment. “Ask him what the word for his knife is.”

“What? Skaa…”

“Come _on_ , just do it.”

“Whatever…”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just did a quick edit of things so it might be a bit janky.
> 
> Please let me know if you see any typos or anything!

Before daybreak she left the encampment, her gut turning a little with nerves at the rather sudden summons she had received from her brothers on the communication device they had given her. She was glad that Skaara and she had left their bothering of the newcomer Jack shortly after she had learned the names of a few things for the teenager.

Kasuf would be pleased as well, since it hadn’t taken her long to spot the placement for the new well. Listening with her ear to the ground to find water, piecing together sounds and pushing others away to make sure she had the underground vein correct.

The people of the village had gotten used to her strangeness, like her extremely good eyesight and hearing. The way that she could spot sandstorms hours before they actually came and how she could find oasis or catches of naquadah in the mines rather easily to point them out.

It was best that she and her friend had parted ways after they were done with the soldier, otherwise she would have had to rudely cut him off and leave without explanation right in front of him. As it was, they were used to her slipping out of the village’s confines and disappearing into the sands.

“Mir’ac, what –”

The Jaffa lifted a finger to his lips to signal silence and she looked at him curiously after he had received an update from one of the Jaffa that had left with her brother.

Scattered around the opening to the temple were Earth technologies. Of course, she only assumed this because they certainly weren’t Abydonian and the most recent additions to the planet were from that planet she was familiar with. Signs of some kind of skirmish could be detected in the sand that coated the stone floor.

“Our Lord Ra has requested that you clothe yourself in your official attire, My Lady,” the black Jaffa with the golden inscription of her brothers’ symbol on his forehead stated grimly. “He must speak with you, and he does not wish any others to know of your identity.”

She felt her features pale.

“Do you think…” her voice was small as she put her little hand in his larger, stronger one. “Do you think that their… that it’s… _time_?”

“I do not know, My Lady,” was the grave response. “But we must prepare, either way.”

Her official garb was as much pompous splendor as it was armor and weapons, gilded by beauty but wired for danger and whatever her brothers could think of to protect her. The metals not in the color of his beloved gold, but in the silvers, jades, and lavenders that she preferred, with her own symbol of the serpent twined around that of their eye on the breast. It covered all of her skin, every inch of it.

The ensemble was topped with a quicksilver metal head covering mask with glimmering amber yellow eyes framed by black lines that winged out across metallic temples. Symmetrical features that did not truly reflect her own but were unisex, impersonal instead, with a single line of black trailing from the middle of the bottom lip down its chin about an inch thick.

Surrounding these artistic features was simulacrum of metal hair styled pin straight, cut straight across at the bangs but left long enough to touch both chest and back. Adorned with a stripe of jade and dull metal color circlet that on the brow possessed the arching, flared hooded cobra, metal ears adorned with numerous jade colored piercings and large, long hoops.

Under lavender and silver silks that draped like the most liquid of dresses, a beautiful, shimmery gauze cloth that looked like how she had once pictured Jasmin from Aladdin’s clothing looking. It was metal armor of a naquadah derivative that absorbed physical impacts, couldn’t be pierced by blades, and helped to disperse energy weapons.

It was costly and time consuming to make, but every time she grew her brothers made her a new one. It slid smoothly down over her fingertips almost completely, her lavender colored cloth gloves covering the bits of her pale skin that would otherwise be revealed by the rings and decorations. The detail to have even the effect of nails on her fingertips covered entirely on her left hand, but only thumb, middle and fore fingers on the right. Jewels and crystals of varying sizes encrusted in rings and bands, some connected to one another, other’s not.

Wrist cuffs with jade gemstones worked as remote controls to the numerous technologies that were used throughout both the less advanced temple and the ship itself in which they usually lived. The symbol of the eye encircled by the serpent imprinted on both, though bangles jingled in multiple colors over the left.

It was beautiful in an alien way.

Those rings and wrist cuffs, elaborate as they were, formed a hand device that she could use to either heal or kill. In the jewel studded chest piece hidden under slippery cloth there was a personal shielding device that he had scrounged up for her from his stores of Ancient devices. Hidden at the small of her back under voluminous, but sleek garb, was a zat’nik’tel, the only weapon that her brothers had taught her to use as of yet.

Other than the hand device, of which she had one of both hands of different styles and makes just in case one was either damaged or stripped from her, so as her enemy and attackers wouldn’t suspect an extra.

She had called it paranoia before, but she had never complained about all of the extras he had created for her, to keep her safe. Because she knew what her very existence meant to the oldest living of their kind, the last who truly remembered where they had come from.

To lose her, after so long without hope, would cripple him, would just… destroy him. In a way that millennia of herding cats – the Goa’uld – and outmaneuvering his enemies hadn’t managed to. Would bring them to their knees in a display that even the thought of made her heart ache.

“Atem-Ra?” she queried softly, voice distorted in a fabrication of what she could not sound like until she was older, until her body had finished growing and her sister woke, mask for now not in place. “What’s wrong?”

When it was just them and the Jaffa, when they were just going day to day, they rarely dressed themselves in anything more elaborate than their habitual outfit. Which consisted of hand device and golden or deep purple robes, sometimes white with golden accents.

They usually let their long, silky black hair slide long and free around their elegant features and dark eyes, few trinkets or adornments on them, but it would appear that this was not the case.

To her, it didn’t look like he’d changed after meeting with one of the System Lords, having to play Supreme System Lord to cow them back into their places and keep the delicate balance in play.

It was odd, that his hair was bound back from his face, as he preferred it with less muss and fuss. The disciples, those who would one day lead in varied areas under the command of the great Ra. So were taught by him – were all also wearing more or less – than their regular plain white robes.

The color and lack of individualization what made them stand out amongst the young Jaffa who were brought in to train or learn under their betters. Some were human, some were of the subspecies of humanity, the new branch that was most commonly referred to as the Jaffa, though the title itself had been simply to denote warriors in the beginning.

Even her brothers were giving in to just let the new race have the name, when Atem and Ra had held out for millennia.

“Halima,” they greeted her softly, dark eyes rimmed in long, thick dark lashes soft and a little sad as they looked down at her. “Dear little sister.”

Quailing a little at the implications of his tired tone, though it was filled with no less affection than it normally was, she huddled closer to him. Taking some comfort from the way that he knelt down before her and held her metal tipped hand in his own, though caramel toned skin showed between joints on his rather than lavender cloth.

“W-What’s wrong?” she asked quietly, voice trembling. “Why do we have to dress like this?”

Reacting to the distress in her distorted voice, dark eyes flashed a pale white gold, so unlike the other Goa’uld, those born later, for a moment as Ra became more prominent. Before he settled and sighed, pressing his lips softly, carefully to her forehead as she gazed at him with wide hazel eyes. He lifted one hand and ran it over her only slightly tamed riotous curls and sadness came to the fore of his gentle features.

“My time as Supreme System Lord is coming to an end, _ukht._ It is much sooner than we had hoped,” her eyes widened, and he cradled her pale features against his hand. “But it must be done. I have found stirrings of my enemy in the far reaches of the galaxies, and he is amassing. If I do not fall back and begin to truly fortify for his return, if I am not ready to either drive him away once again or destroy him once and for all…”

The Goa’uld’s eyes flashed once more, and she filled in the blanks quietly.

“Then he will take everything,” she whispered, voice wet even through the distortion. “And he will destroy it. Starting with humanity, since they are the direct descendants of the Ancients that he’s so obsessed with.”

They had discussed this before, and even then, it had hurt.

“One does not simply step down from such a place as Supreme System Lord,” the Atem stated, the lack of distortion telling her who was truly speaking in those moments, though he rarely chose to. “And the only way that we can convince them that we are not tricking them or lying in wait –” _which they were_. “– Is to die in such a spectacular display of destruction so that none can deny it.”

“But why now?” she asked desperately, throwing herself forward to press her face into his neck. “Why can’t you wait? It’ll take years before Anubis is ready to strike, even if he’s starting to gather forces!”

“Because,” Ra said softly, arms enfolding her gently. “There is a spy in our midst, and he knows of the humans who have come from Earth, has seen the device that they have brought with them.”

“D-Device?” frowning, she jumped as the rest filtered. “A _spy_?!”

“Yes,” he said calmly as she pulled back to look into his golden features. “A Tok’Ra spy who will report all that happens here. I will find no other perfect opportunity to die in the eyes of the System Lords than this one.”

Her lips trembled as she stared at him.

“I don’t…” her eyes filled, and she tried to fight back the tears. “I don’t want you to go…”

“I know,” the distortion was back, and both of her brothers embraced her tightly. “I hope that someday you might forgive me, us, that you might understand.”

Hiccuping a little as she quietly cried against him, she trembled. Hating the very fact that she _did_ understand what he was doing, knew that it was important, but she still didn’t want him to leave her alone. Even with knowing all the bad that could happen should he not go through with his plan, what travesty the banished Anubis could bring with him when he returned after so long away.

Doing who knew what to prepare himself to try and take over that which Ra had driven him from before.

“Atem-Ra…” pulling back and looking him in the eyes she took a deep breath to steady herself. “I love you, brothers.”

“And we you, our dear little sister.”

_Mert, please wake up._

~*~

She had led the procession down to the dais with the showy throne in the meeting hall they had little use for.

It was only because she had been informed of their human captives that she didn’t so much as flinch at the sight of Daniel and the sad eyed Jack O’Neill. Forced to kneel by the Jaffa, one of whom she had been told was one of the Tok’Ra spies.

Ironically, he was a human who had been named Anubis, and he had been carefully working his way up the ranks.

Her brothers had been using him as a cover for their true First Prime, whom they had taken to leaving with her as added security while they were away. Who would lead and continue to train the troops as she learned what it was to lead whilst growing into her position, someone respected by those below them that would help her build the loyalty of her followers.

Tears made their way down her features behind the highly technological mask that she wore, and not only because her brothers would soon be gone from her.

Her brothers had told her nearly everything about their plan in how they would pose their deaths. All of it.

And she… she had no way to change it, not really, and she could see no alternative to the destruction that needed to be laid. There were undoubtedly more spies in the ranks, and they could name off at least two more who had lower positions than the one they had allowed Anubis to ascend to.

She couldn’t argue that her brothers could do much worse than a few shots fired down upon the villages to get them riled up, even though they had never seen fit to attack the peaceful mining villages before. Despite the way that she knew this worked, Halima truly wished that no one had to die.

Death was… she hated it.

Leading the procession down, she waited until her brothers were seated before she lowered herself to the floor to the immediate right of the throne. The cushion was placed by one of the disciples for her plush and elaborately embroidered, with enough size to it that she could perch easily.

Even though tears slipped down her face and her mind was racing – _oh god not Skaara Sha’uri Kasuf Nabeh not my friends please don’t die Skaara Sha’uri –_ she kept her body still and controlled. Not moving a muscle and not fully listening to the words that her brother was speaking, no matter how much she wished to.

Daniel was studying her with interest, his gaze flicking from Ra – for Atem was not at the fore in those moments – and back to Halima where she sat on the dais.

They were surrounded by the scantily clad disciples that ranged from younger than her to just older than Skaara was.

Those intelligent blue gray eyes behind his glasses looked like they were trying to figure out the purpose of her presence, what it meant that she was here. From her understanding, he knew a lot about the Egyptian Pantheon from Earth, and her personal serpent sigil was not a part of any of the lore from that time frame.

Because of the sabotage by Egeria, Mert never reached her destination of Ra's side.

So she had no official place in Earth’s history, meaning that she was an unknown element to the man who had been married to Sha’uri the night before.

She sat in almost a daze as things progressed around her, as the man with the sad eyes attacked the Jaffa try to get to Halima and Atem-Ra. As Daniel Jackson, who had been kind to her and had tried to stop the fighting, was shot.

Finally as human Anubis subdued the sad eyed man, her brothers stood from behind the protective circle of children and moved forward.

Her heart already ached.

~*~

A day later, her brothers were gone from her.

Dead to her in the ways that meant that she was possibly never going to see them again. No matter how the eventual battle with Anubis would go in the future, there was always the chance that they would _truly_ die between this time and that.

Before this, however, he had Mir’ac – his true First Prime – and a legion of Jaffa he trusted hide her away deep in the tunnels beneath the temple as he carried out his plan. If things went as he predicted, then he would live, if they didn’t, then he would die anyway. Either way, she would not know for several years, and she would need to start growing her own power base to combat Anubis in his place.

To be the force on the front as he was the one in the background, to ingratiate herself to the System Lords and join their number. To take up her place as the heir to the Supreme System Lord Ra, ruler of his territories in his place.

As it was, as the battles took place, she could hear the weapons fire, could hear the shouting, and all she could do was hold her hands pressed tightly against her ears and curl up into a ball. Taking some small amount of comfort from Rama as he held her tight to his side, murmuring softly against her hair. After a while the staff weapon fire slowed and then stopped, before…

The ground shook and rumbled and she choked out a sob, her whole body shaking as she wept painfully, knowing that things had gone exactly according to plan, even if the results were as of yet uncertain.

“My Lady,” the First Prime said softly as he knelt before her once she’d tired herself out, staring blankly forward. “We serve you now.”

“Mir’ac,” somehow, her eyes were still hot with tears that spilled over her cheeks. “You’ll stay?” she looked up from the safe haven of Rama’s arms at the thirty some Jaffa who stood before her in the bay of the modified Tel’tak. “You’ll help me?”

Jaffa, warriors all of them, but men with a choice, all pressed a fist to their chest over their hearts, human and not alike as they fell to their knees before her. Their heads bowed in supplication and respect towards the girl who was curled up in the arms of one of their own as she shed tears of grief for they who had led them.

Who had been their Lord.

As she wept for those amongst their order who had sacrificed themselves so that the most able could aide their Lady, could begin the work set out for them as they built their armies up to combat the coming darkness. For the girl who reacted with joy at the sight of them, who asked after their families and took pleasure from their company, these Jaffa would kneel.

“Of course, My Lady,” the First Prime stood, golden eye emblem gleaming in the lights of the Tel’tak’s cargo bay where it sat upon his brow. “You are Halima, the bearer of the Queen Mert, chosen sister of Our Lord Ra, who has only ever treated his allies and warriors with respect.”

She closed her eyes against the weight in her chest at the words.

“We will guard you,” the man continued. “We will teach you what we know. We will stay with you as you grow. We will guide you if you stray.”

There was no time she could remember being more tired, wearier. Not even when Mert had been forced to take her as host before either of them was ready for the blending. Not even when she was bleeding out on that beach, waiting for her life to end so that the pain would go away.

“We will care for you,” he said softly, causing her eyes to open again and take in the serious, respectful features of the men that surrounded her. “As we have always done.”

Hands clenching in the fabric over Rama’s primta pouch, she took a deep breath to steady herself a little.

“Thank you, Mir’ac. All of you.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Brief attempted assault. Nothing happens, but the attempt is made on a woman and a child.

They stayed on Abydos, because it was simpler to do so. The ship could not leave the planet so soon after the apparent – _oh gods what if he really died_ – death of the Goa’uld Ra, not without drawing undue attention where it was definitely not wanted.

After this gamble, they could _not_ draw attention to themselves. Not when Halima had no position to speak of, no power.

Not when Mert still slept to keep them healthy until Hali was old enough to handle the strain on her body of the joining when both consciousnesses were aware.

It took her a long time, nearly a week, to work up the courage – the _heart_ – to drag herself out of depression. Of the grief and very real fear that her brothers were dead and the plan had failed and – and –

No. No Halima was done with that.

By all the gods she hoped she was done with that. It hurt too much. Everything hurt too much and while she loved Mir’ac and the other she just wanted to curl up in Sha’uri’s arms and feel the comfort of her softness.

So she finds her bravery, and ventures once again towards one of the villages. This one was closer, and she visited less often and this time she bore nothing to give them, her features more pale than usual, all of her Jaffa staying with the ship.

She could pass as human to humans. They, however, could not, and if found would be mobbed. The stealthier of her guards had gone and gathered the technologies left over from her brothers and hidden them away deep within the bowels of the temple. A great many of them had been added to the inventory of the Tel’tak, but Halima wasn’t sure what they did yet, so she would wait.

There was an inventory list he’d left her, a study guide and recordings to teach her what she would need to know, but…

It hurt. She didn’t want to.

_Why did this have to happen?_

Halima was barely aware when she reached the edges of the village, heart heavy and head hazy. Her eyes downcast and features covered as she walked through familiar tents and stalls, noted in the back of her mind things that had changed from weapons fire from the _udajeet_ that her brothers favored for planetary skirmishes.

“Halima?”

Stopping at her name as it was whispered to her, the tone worried and frantic, it took her a moment to look up from the ground into familiar features. To see the worry and relief in equal measures on the rather battered features of one of the young women that she sometimes stayed when she was in the Western village.

Relief hit the girl in the chest so hard that she gasped, eyes widening as she looked at the young woman, her eyes filling as they had often in the past several days.

“Thena?” she asked weakly, voice clogged with tears.

“Oh, dear,” the woman rushed towards her and gathered her in her arms, gaze flickering this way and that amongst the eerily quiet destruction, where Halima could only tremble with emotion. She’d missed human warmth. “Hush, hush, now. What’s the matter?”

This, of course, only caused her to _actually_ start to cry, quiet, painful sobs that made little to no noise as she clung to the soft form of the woman who held her. It so different from the Jaffa who had cared for her since the potential death of her brothers, since everything in her world had been flipped upside down.

She was afraid. She was so, so afraid.

“Halima…” after holding her for several moments, kneeling on the hard packed earth as the midday sun hung over them, the woman stood. Thena held the small, slim girl easily in her arms as she wove her way through the market towards the building, pace more frantic than expected. “We must move quickly, child. It is dangerous, but don’t worry, I will take care of you.”

“Hey, who’s that there?!”

An unfamiliar man’s voice called out, words ragged and lacking the courtesies of the village languages, and the woman holding Halima tightly to her jumped and her breathing became ragged with fright. The sudden change broke through the haze of renewed grief that had come over the girl, making a shiver run up her spine.

Everything felt _wrong._

“I think I see a woman!”

“Oh, a woman, eh?”

Raucous laughter trailed as the woman started to run and from her position in Thena’s arms she realized that there was danger. The pounding of heavy footfalls on packed earth and laughter following them, catching up rather quickly.

The girl couldn’t help letting out a cry of fear and dismay, echoed by the woman, as Thena’s arm was grabbed and she was yanked back, sending them sprawling to the ground. Halima rolled away with the force of their fall, only to be grabbed up by another man, struggling in thick, large arms.

“She’s got a pet here, Sarin!”

“Haha, we _like_ pets, don’t we, brother?”

A hand yanked the scarf she so loved off of her head, sending dark auburn curls falling around her pale features as she struggled with wide eyes. Halima tried to wriggle her way free of whomever it was that was holding her, struggled desperately. As she watched, Thena, who had been holding her who was still on the ground, was pushed onto her hands and knees roughly as she screamed and cried for help.

The woman who had been so kind was struggling against her own captors as her robes were torn and her dress was being pulled up.

Instinct and an understanding of the cruelties of sentients imparted tiredly by her brothers had Halima’s heart in her throat.

_Oh god. No. No. It can’t happen, no. I don’t want – I can’t – I can’t see this!_

With a cry of fear, the girl sank her teeth into the meat of the man holding hers’ arm. Copper exploded into her mouth under gritty sand filled cloth as flesh parted under her inhumanely strong jaw. The man cried out in pain as she worried his flesh like an animal, desperate to be free of this cruel stranger and to help her friend.

She should have stayed with the Jaffa. Should have kept to the safety of the ship and ignored her desire for human comfort. To know if her friends were alright.

Halima had been weak, and so Thena wold suffer.

_Mert, Mert wake up, please!_

A moment of freefall sinking her stomach before she hit the ground as the man threw her away from him. Hali scrambling to get further away, terror making her body tremble uncontrollably.

The rough mixture of dirt and sand beneath her hands felt too harsh against her palms and before she could get more than a few feet a hand was grasping her clothing and pulling on her. Despite the inhuman strength in her body, she was small, so small. Her robes tore from the force exerted against her as she screamed her fear, fingers crooked like claws as she was dragged across the ground.

She should have stayed.

Out of the corner of her eye, in a haze of dread, she caught sight of what could potentially postpone what looked to be the inevitable and flailed out a numb feeling, clumsy, slightly bloody hand to grasp a wooden handle.

She wished that Mert was awake, that she could save her again, that everything was the way it had been; wishes were never granted though.

Then she spun around with a desperate cry and slammed the mining pick into, through, the skull of the leering dark man who had been pulling her back. Blood and _other things_ splattered down onto her and she choked in horror as she let go of the mining tool and scrambled back from the body. It tumbled down with the length of metal lodged in skull, heavy and gurgling and twitching.

She wanted to be sick, but there was only ice in her stomach and static in her head as she stared at what she’d done.

Halima had never wanted to kill someone. She never wanted to hurt anyone, even when they’d hurt her. She didn’t understand why people _liked_ to hurt others, and she didn’t know what to do.

She didn’t know.

As she stared in horror, gunfire reverberated, slamming into the remaining men where they stood. It was so _loud,_ but it freed Thena from where she had yet to be violated but nearly _had_ been by the looks of it. The woman was crying and pulling at her ruined clothing to try and cover herself even as she was trying to duck down and cover her head. Flinching at each echoing reverberation of bullet clusters sliding through the air to spray blood like mist through the air.

The packed earth and sand was soaked it up quickly, rusting and brown after glimmering moments of brilliant red.

She’d never thought that her hair was like blood before, but maybe she’d just never seen enough corpses falling like puppets to the ground before.

Halima felt so cold as she continued to stare wide eyed at the body of the man that she’d killed, her blood moving like shattered ice through her veins. Stomach a ball of cold lead as she breathed too fast, chest heaving with a shudder on every inhale and exhale, feeling as if she were going to fall apart with a too hard wind.

What was this? Why did everything have to go so very, very _wrong_ all the time?

Why couldn’t everyone just leave them alone?!

“Halima!” a familiar voice called frantically, filled with fear and worry, feet running in a familiar rhythm towards her. “Halima!”

Before she was even aware of the presence beside her she found herself scrambling away, one hand supporting her retreat and the other clenched at the tear in the fabric at her shoulder.

Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she finally registered the pained, helpless expression on her friend’s golden dark features. The rolled dreadlocks of his hair fell over his shoulders as he leaned towards her, hands hovering in the air between them as if he would reach out to embrace her. As she stared at him, her limbs trembled, stomach a heavy thing.

Halima’s eyes burned with how wide they were, slowly taking in the fact that some of the men from the Southern village were there with Skaara.

Why was he here? How did… Why?

There were the soldiers from her planet of origin with him, the one she knew best standing beside Daniel Jackson as he spoke quietly with one of the village men.

Next to the trembling Thena was a man whom she didn’t know the name of, and he was carefully settling the outer robe he had been wearing over her shoulders. To cover the skin that had been exposed by the vicious tearing of her own clothing, the woman still quietly sobbing as she clutched it to her shoulders.

Nothing felt real, but it felt too much.

“S-Skaa?” she found herself whispering, lips trembling and eyes wetting. “Skaa?”

“Hush,” he murmured softly, moving slowly towards her, hands held out to show that they were empty. Like she was an animal. “I’m here. It’s alright, Hali, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He gestured towards the soldiers who were standing back, features grim as they examined their surroundings, O’Neill’s sad gaze on her with something like protective anger. That cold, grieving rage she’d seen before, but Halima’s heart was a shuddering bruise in her chest.

Everything had happened so fast. She didn’t understand.

Why hadn’t she stayed with the Jaffa and spared them all this?

“We won’t let anything happen to you. O’Neill and Daniel said they would help me find you, and look,” he smiled softly, features still a little twisted with ragged worry. “I have found you.”

Halima sat, breathing harshly, for a long moment, trying to get her too light head to actually think before she trembled and crawled towards him. It was difficult and yet so simple to let him shelter her in his arms in a familiar motion, one that he’d used before when the other children at the village had made fun of her. When they had been cruel because of her pale skin or for how much differently she spoke and acted in comparison to them.

Skaara lifted the edges of his robe and wrapped them around her too, so that she was in a cocoon of faded yellow with her head pressed against his leather vest. Small body curled up into a ball against his chest, his legs bracketing her as his arms held her close to him, she felt tiny and weak.

Even as she trembled against him, he ran his hands up and down her back, shifting in soothing circles as he breathed nonsense words of comfort. Skaara’s own body trembled once in a while with a tension that she didn’t understand as she hiccupped and wept quietly into his chest. She was glad that curled up where she was, leaning all of her insubstantial weight against him, the world suddenly felt smaller and protected again, instead of too large and scary, instead of threatening and sharp.

Yes, being held in her friend’s arms made the world seem less cold, less terrifying.

“Hali,” was murmured to her again, against the crown of her head as she calmed down a few minutes later. “Do you think you can stand up?”

Taking a few, deep, bracing breaths, she nodded against him shakily and pulled back a bit. She rubbed a hand against her face to smear tear tracks and remove snot that had run down over her upper lip a little, blinking at the ache in her eyes as she did so. Her hands throbbed in protest, and she stared at them for a long moment.

Oh.

No doubt she'd spread dirt and smeared blood from her oozing hands over her too pale skin, but she could find no reason to care at all about such things. The little bits of dirt and sand ground in and under her split, torn nails didn’t really matter. Not when she still felt like ice and everything was a little hazy.

Moving out of the shelter of her friend’s robe, she looked up at him, unable to read the expression on his smooth, handsome features. Those honey dark eyes the strangest amount of affectionate and angry that she had ever seen, but still comforting all the same.

Skaara was her best friend, and he’d found her when she needed him, despite the odds.

“I’m alright,” Halima managed to say a little shakily; her voice sounded strange and distant. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not, but we should leave anyway,” Skaara stood first and then helped her to her feet, steadying her as she faltered slightly. “The bandits will likely be back, and the woman, Thena, mentioned that most everyone has already fled this village for the places by the sea.”

They were gone?

Everyone was gone.

With this information in mind, the girl turned her head, only to catch her gaze on the sight of the man she’d killed. Halima gave a full body shudder as a knot formed in her throat and she found it hard to breath, causing her to use the hand she wasn’t using to hold her torn robe and scarf to grab a hold of the teenager’s own.

He squeezed her aching hand ever so gently and pulled her along behind him towards the two men from Earth who were quietly speaking to one another. They both looked up when she and Skaara got close, Daniel’s expression was a mixture of concern and something like heartbreak. The soldier whom she’d gotten to know a little, what seemed like so long ago suddenly, regarded her with a softness she didn’t expect.

Standing nearby, was Thena.

Thena.

Oh gods she was okay she was –

Moving away from her friend without thought, letting her hand trail out of his behind her, she threw herself at the woman. Thena held her tightly to her chest once again, arms trembling slightly, but much calmer than she had been only minutes before.

This woman had risked such awful thing for Halima, and she’d nearly been – they’d nearly been –

“Thena, Thena, are you okay?” her voice was more panicked than she thought it would be, than she felt, but her chest was still kind of numb and her mind a little blank. “They – they didn’t –”

“No,” the woman assured her, running a hand over the girl’s curls, her lower lip swollen and a little bloody, the left side of her face already bruising. “No, they didn’t. These men stopped them before they could.”

“Good, I’m so glad…”

A dry sob curled up her throat as they clung to one another.

After she was certain of the woman’s health, they moved out of the decimated part of the village. Which Thena had only stayed behind in the village to stay with her grandfather as he died, too ill to be moved with the others but she hadn’t wanted to leave him on his own in the wreckage.

She found herself walking between the woman and her friend over the sands. The tear in the shoulder of her robe covered by the end of her scarf so that her tender skin didn’t get exposed to the sunlight too much. Halima had enough of it draped over her head so that her features were shaded, but only just.

Without thought, she had ended up grasping the teenager’s hand once again, comforted by the familiar grip of his larger hand. Halima let Skaara haul her up when she stumbled from sudden inexplicable tiredness or fell into a daze with the loss of adrenaline in her system. Or when she remembered that there was blood staining the bottom of her dress and robe from the man she’d killed.

Blood and _other things_ that had come out of his destroyed skull.

Her hands ached and burned sharply every time he hauled her up again, but it seemed to jolt her back to present, so she said nothing. Halima’s whole body hurt in a way that she remembered with an exhaustion that was nearly breathtaking from the time before she had been saved by Mert. When she had first been brought to her home with her brothers on Abydos, to safety.

They were gone now.

Did that mean that safety was gone now too? Is that why this had happened?

She had just tripped once again and fallen to all fours and was wiping at her tired, dirty face when a hand on her shoulder had her looking up. Staring into the sad eyes of the soldier she was beginning to think of as hers and Skaara’s.

“C’mon kid,” he said soothingly, gesturing to his back and turning in an obvious sign of what he wanted her to do. “It’ll go faster this way, and I bet you’re tired out.”

Halima felt thin and light, yet her limbs were too heavy and clumsy like they’d never been before.

Glancing around at the others before she climbed up for a piggyback ride, she noted the slightly pained expression on Skaara’s features. There was strange twist like regret and unhappiness on all of the men from Earth’s faces, and Daniel Jackson sent her worried looks as he spoke to one of the men from the Southern village.

With a sigh, she linked her hands around his neck and hooked her legs through his arms, letting her head fall against his shoulder as he stood to full height again. Lulled by his solidity and the steady beat of his heart through his broad shoulder, Halima blinked tiredly as she noted her friend walking on the side that she was facing. The last thing she saw before she fell asleep, eased by the steady cadence of O’Neill’s steps and the rhythm of heartbeat, was a familiar callused hand adjusting the scarf over her pale features. 

Protecting her from the harsh burn of the sun as they traveled, so her skin didn’t redden while she was insensate.

Halima was tired, but she stirred a bit when she felt herself being set down.

“ _Akhkheen_?” she murmured, blinking her eyes open, expecting an amused smile at her expense to be looking down at her fondly. “What…”

Only to be greeted by the sad eyed man instead of the golden skinned beauty of her siblings. It felt like she’d been stabbed in the chest when she remembered that her brothers wouldn’t be touching her again for a long time, if ever, and not in the least setting her to sleep.

Throat thick with exhaustion and grief, she spoke around the knot of pin in her throat, voice tired and wet.

“O’Neill.”

“Halima,” he returned softly, sighing a bit as he settled a blanket over her, seemingly smoothing it unconsciously as he tucked it around her. “I’ll go get Sha’uri and Skaara.”

With the ache of memory and lethargy in her chest, the girl curled up into a ball under the blanket. Pulling it up over her head she blankly noted that someone had removed her scarf from where it had been covering her face and hair.

Something stiff on the hem of her robes had her breath catching sharply in her chest, had her clenching her jaw tightly and pressing her knuckles hard against her eyes as she breathed harshly through her nose, trying to forestall another bout of weeping. Through the hard pounding of her heart in her chest and echoing in her ears, she heard the murmuring of familiar voices. The accented one of the man that had been one of the last to see her brothers alive – before the plan had been carried out, that is.

_Why does everything that I love have to shatter and twist, to become wrong and painful?_

_Why did they have to go away?_

“Halima…” a weight settled next to her, and a soothing hand smoothed down her back. “I am here.”

After a minute of struggling within herself for something similar to control, the Heiress of Ra released her breath in one strong exhale. Halima struggled within herself for a moment before she pulled the cloth blanket down to uncover her head as she sat up. Looking into familiar dark eyes, so lovely in the eyes of the woman she liked to think of as a friend and sister and in the quiet places, a mother.

The hand that had been slowly comforting her with steady strokes against her back cupped her cheek, beautiful features were a twist of tragic concern and sadness. Mixed with the kind of relief that the girl couldn’t translate, especially with her mind so fatigued by stress and grief.

Swallowing against the tightness in her throat, Halima let herself be pulled slowly into an embrace. Pressing her face against the neck of the young woman she breathed in the scent of the sun, the desert sands, with the tinge of myrrh that had her shuddering against the fears in her chest. Arms wrapped around her and she wrapped her own in turn as much around the woman as she could, holding on as tightly as she dared. Halima couldn’t help trembling as the new bride slowly began to rock her, humming softly in comfort, pressing her cheek against the crown of the auburn haired curls on her head.

For the first time since losing her brother for she didn’t know how long, possibly forever, her heart settled into something other than numb, pinching agony. Something other than the fear she’d felt for excruciatingly long moments. Even though tears pricked her eyes they did not fall, not just yet, because after the sight of the Western village, after the bandits, she had to know.

Even though it had been for a greater purpose, even though to keep the countless number of people in the known galaxies alive it had needed to happen… Halima had become even more aware of the fact that their Jaffa had fired upon people who could not remember the last time a demonstration of power had been needed.

Abydos had been a peaceful world, and though the desert life was rough, Ra had provided for them when they beseeched aid in the temple. Had given them medicines and foods, even water during the harshest droughts.

But with this… with the use of their technology to convince the Tok’Ra of their similarities to the Goa’uld, that they were no different. That they had died in fire for ignorance and arrogance, her brothers had potentially taken from her that which she cared for on this planet other than themselves. More than the Jaffa who she loved but could not truly call her friends, not yet, not when she was meant to _lead_ them no.

She had to know whom she needed to mourn and who would grace her nightmares, would rack her with guilt and grief because the universe was an unfair place.

That lives had been taken, and just like with what could have happened to Thena and herself, she knew that it would hurt. Because invariably someone she knew had been lost, made her suck it up and pull what courage she had together.

It had been hard, to get up and leave the safety of the temple, of her Jaffa, foolish though it might have been. But this… this was harder.

Accepting that she might have done this. Might have hurt someone she loved in supporting her brothers in doing what was _right_ if not good.

It hurt and sickened her a little, but she was already relieved by the knowledge that she hadn’t lost her favorite siblings, that both Skaara and Sha’uri had survived.

“Sha’uri?” she asked a little hoarsely after a while of being lulled by the rocking motion. “Is… Is everyone alright?”

A gentle hand pet over her curls, pausing a little at the question but the woman merely sighed heavily and pressed a soft kiss to her head, arms tightening where they held her. That in itself was telling enough, and the girl felt her heart in her throat, her stomach heavy and cold in her gut, causing another shudder to run over her small form.

She should have just stayed.

_Mert. Mert I’m scared._

“Nabeh is gone, Halima,” the woman stated softly, sadly, and Halima felt her chest tighten and jerk in her chest. “He died the day the fire fell.”

“Oh,” her voice was small and shattered. “Oh.”

Naïvely, she had hoped that the people who died from the weapons fire would not be the people that she knew personally, but that… that was just the way that things were no matter her feelings on the matter. People died and it hurt, and…

_Oh no, if they find out about me… if Skaara finds out about me, about Mert… they’ll blame me for Nabeh’s death… it’ll be – it’s all my fault oh no._

_I killed him. Just like that man._

_I’ll lose everything I have with them, because they think my sister is a monster. Think that my brothers were monsters and to fight the bigger enemy we have to become a small one._

_I don’t want them to hate me._

“Hali?” the very voice she would normally be oh so pleased to hear called softly, and she curled tightly against the woman who held her, eyes squeezing shut. “Are you alright?”

All she could do was shake her head and struggle to breath, feeling nausea roiling like lead in her stomach at the sudden realization. The realization that these people whom she sought comfort from would hate her if they found out what she was, who she was, and what part she’d had to play in all of this.

Skaara’s hand pressed hesitantly against her back between her shoulder blades, the heat of his palm a comfort on her unnaturally cool body.

Halima should shrug them off, should leave. She should cut ties with them to make it hurt less when the inevitable came.

She couldn’t, though.

She was so scared.

“What is it?”

“I…” she took deep, calming breaths as she tried to find something to say, but couldn’t find words. “I…”

“It’s alright,” Sha’uri said again. “I’m here. We’re here. We aren’t going anywhere. It’s alright, Halima, we’re here.”

_But for how long?_

“My brothers died,” she blurted out hoarsely, voice wrecked and quiet, causing sharp inhalations from the siblings. “On the day the sky burned. They died. I’m alone. My family is all – They’re gone. I’m alone.”

It was strange, how every time someone gave her comfort she just… fell apart.

“ _I’m alone._ ”

Someday, they would leave her too, or she would leave them, and what she was had become a monster to the people she loved.

_I’m alone. Mert, please, I don’t want to be alone._

_Wake up._

**Author's Note:**

> Ukht: spiritual sister (Arabic) 
> 
> Please correct me if I got this wrong, google is my resource!


End file.
